Yearly Archives

2009

motherhood

Momday Blues

May 17, 2009

Photo from youandmemagazine.com

Most people have no idea what moms do at home on a daily basis. I must admit, it seems so easy and relaxing as compared to say, a sewage clearance guy who has to wade through 15 inches of crap all day. Or a shark feeder. Now that’s a tough job.

Moms, on the other hand, have a pretty easy life. I mean, how tough is it to take care of a baby? Just shove some candy into their hands and make them watch TV all day while we take a nap or play some computer games.

This is the kind of conversation that sends me into epileptic fits.

Dude: What exactly do you do at home all day? It must be very relaxing being a stay-home mom.

Me: Well, I mostly sit around sipping my latte and chilling out. Watch a little Oprah, then head out for some scones and pastries.

Yeah, right, you misinformed moron.

My day begins at 7 (sometimes 5.45) when my kid starts shouting. I make his milk, feed him, wipe his ass. Then I make breakfast, drive the husband to work, rush back, cook lunch, do the dishes, do the laundry, clean the house, iron the clothes. In between, I’ve got to tell stories, sing and juggle to make sure Tru is sufficiently entertained. In short, I’m in a frenzy for most of the day until he goes to bed at night. Then I have my only decent meal of the day, write my blog and try to get rid of the ringing in my ears. And the madness starts all over again the next morning.

Plus, I’m carrying a 32-week-old child in my giant stomach, which just makes all of the above a lovely walk in the park.

So it’s not any wonder that I get Monday Blues just like any other job. I haven’t had an off-day, a public holiday or any sort of break in 11 months and I’m about as high-strung as a nervy kid on coke. I don’t think I’ve ever been screamed at this much in any other job. Just the slightest slip-up and my little man makes his displeasure known through one of his pterodactyl shrieks.

And the whole time, there’s absolutely no one for me to scream at or gripe to in return.

After a nice weekend with Superdad in action, the thought of Mondays make my heart sink and my stomach churn just a little. You’d think it gets easier as the days go by, but I wake up every Monday morning to the unmistakable feeling of dread that hits me like a ton of bricks.

So it begins. Another week that seems to stretch on forever. With any luck, I’ll make it to the weekend in one piece.

by Daphne

pregnancy

Do I really want to bore you with ultrasound pictures?

May 14, 2009

I’m crazy about babies. Probably more than the average human being. I’m the kind of passer-by that stops dead in my tracks and goes all googly-eyed at cute babies on the street. I once had a collection of Anne Geddes babies that would rotate daily on my wallpaper (till it suddenly dawned upon me that some of the pictures were a bit creepy).

Now, when I first saw Tru’s ultrasound photo, I honestly didn’t know how to react. There was this black mass staring back at me, and it looked nothing like all the cute babies I’ve been visualizing. He’s a stunning boy now, but back then, he was a cross between a giant-headed prawn and a martian. I was also secretly worried that he’ll come out all squishy and scary-looking. Before you tsk, tsk at me, I know moms are supposed to love their kids unconditionally, but deep down inside, we all hope our kids are drop-dead gorgeous.

Needless to say, I’m not a fan of collecting ultrasound pictures, even when they’re of my kids. Half the time, I can’t make out which is the head or bum. I was at the gynae yesterday taking a look at Kiki (until I find a better nickname) and my obgyn was patiently pointing out her various body parts. I had half a mind to tell him the scan looked nothing like an elbow or a head, but I I didn’t want to seem like a bad mother, so I did the usual mom thing and raved about how cute she was.

But that being said, I like my gynae visits. Looking at the ultrasound and listening to her heartbeat makes it seem like she’s really there. I know it’s bizarre, since she makes her presence felt by jabbing me in the kidney or bladder ever so often, but being able to see her makes it so much more real, which in turn makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Incidentally, despite my best efforts to keep her small, I’ve been informed that Kirsten is weighing in on the big side. (I hope she’s not fat when she grows up) I’ve got the remaining 8 weeks to starve her in order to have a serious shot at VBAC (or Vaginal Birth After Cesarean, for the less informed). Another C-section will kill all hopes of having 7 kids, so I’m going to have to squeeze her out of my pelvis one way or the other. Which also means I’ll be having severe durian withdrawal until after the delivery.

Anyway, to spread the love, here’s a sneak preview of how the little princess will look like. (Use a bit of imagination, will you?)

face

by Daphne

stuff best described as not safe for parents

Little People for sale

May 13, 2009

Spotted on the Singapore Motherhood forums. Apparently human trafficking is still all the rage these days.

Click the pic to enlarge.

Maddie and AJ-Pitt have been doing their share of buying, sorry adopting little people from different continents, but I had no idea we had such a huge market in Singapore. So how does this work? Is it the littler the better or one size fits all?

Come to think of it, I do have some preloved little people for sale, i.e. my little sister. Considering that we used to lock her up in the storeroom for snitching on us, the condition is still pretty good. Just a little rough around the edges. But overall, definitely a steal at the low, low price of $39.99.

Just a word of warning though. The little people will eventually grow up to become big people and clobber your head in at some point.

by Daphne

kids inc

Parenting for dummies – the worser guide

May 12, 2009

Parenting these days is not like it used to be. In most ways. our parents had it easy. There were clear-cut rules and it was pretty standard, like “Do your homework or I’ll whip your ass” and we all grew up alright. These days, there are all kinds of newfangled parenting theories that make it impossible for mothers to do anything right.

From the time the kids are born, we’re supposed to choose between co-sleeping and letting them cry it out in their cot. Some experts say swaddle the baby, some say rock the baby, and others advocate attaching them to your body and carrying them around 24/7. Mothers are supposed to navigate their way through all the different do’s and don’ts gathered from all kinds of “authoritative sources”.

And then there’s the pressure of keeping up with the latest trends so our kids have a relatively easy time assimilating into the popular group in school. I was teaching Tru how to speak and it dawned upon me that even the English we speak has evolved so much that it’s hardly the same language we learnt when we were growing up. My mom used to make us speak “the Queen’s English”, to watch the grammar and pronunciation. Now, I listen to kids speak and it really sounds like a bunch of broken up mumbo-jumbo. Apparently broken English is the new Queen’s English.

Here’s a few examples.

1. Wanna come with?

It’s not a complete question. I feel constipated, like I’m waiting for an elusive last word. It’s supposed to be WANNA COME WITH ME, you nitwits. As made popular by shows like One Tree Hill and The O.C, kids are now speaking in incomplete sentences. So to ease my pain, I make it like a game where I get to guess the missing words. “It’s really loads fun play, especially with.”

2. What up?

Barney Stinson from HIMYM even has a range of hand gestures to illustrate this ridiculous phrase. Where’s the S, dude? It’s the reverse of what I call the Asian S Syndrome. Asians have a strange habit of misplacing their S’s and it’s really disconcerting. They will add scatter random S’s to words that do not exist in the plural form so it sounds like they have some kind of lisp. “Generallys, we wants to make sure that the meetings is successful.”

Now, I’m all for keeping up with the latest trends, but I’m somewhat iffy at intentionally teaching my kids bad grammar. They don’t need to speak like the Queen, but I draw the line at worser English. Perhaps the rules of the language would have changed in 15 years time, but I think for now, I’ll make sure they cross their T’s and dot their I’s. And from time to time, I’ll just throw in a random whipping so they’ll do their homework.

by Daphne

love bites

A beautiful disaster

May 11, 2009

It’s the dichotomies in life that make it exciting. I suppose life would be awfully boring if everything went smoothly all the time and it’s the stench of poop that makes roses smell sweeter. So here’s the story of how we got a nice, giant whiff of crap yesterday.

It was meant to be a delayed birthday celebration and we had made plans to take a day off without the kid. To recapture the old days, as it were. The plan was to leave Tru at my mom’s place (grandmas are lifesavers) and head out for a show, a nice dinner and maybe a relaxing walk.

The day started pretty good. For lack of a better option, we ended up watching Star Trek, a total geeky, fanboy kinda show. 10 minutes in, I was totally lost as they went on and on about the transponders and other whatnot gizmos, so I spent the next 2 hours ogling at Chris Pine.

It looked set to be another usual, humdrum outing as we headed back to the car. That’s when the fun started. To our horror, we realized that we had lost the car key, and it was the last set we had. It’s one of those moments where time slows to a halt and a string of expletives made its way to the top of my mind as the gravity of the situation sank in. It could have been lost anywhere along Orchard Road and it’s practically worse than looking for a needle in a haystack.

I decided to sit my pregnant ass down like a vagrant by the side of the road while the husband sprinted down Orchard Road looking for the lost key. I was so depressed that I thought of whipping out my trusty little tin can to make some spare cash while waiting, but even the can was in the car and all I had was my mobile phone. Bummer.

After spending 20 mins checking all the possible places, the key was still nowhere to be found, and our last hope was the cinema, which was screening another show till 11.05 pm. With 90 mins to burn and all the shops closed, we were all dejected as we trudged down to Mackers for a mango smoothie. You know how they say music is food for the soul? Of all the songs in the world, they had to play Ironic by Alanis Morisette to capture the plight that we were in. So there we were, feeling sorry for ourselves and wandering aimlessly like a bunch of delinquents.

Long story short, the cinema managed to retrieve the key and we almost hugged the nice lady at the ticket booth (whose name was Jelly, I’m serious). I’ve never been this happy to see a car key. Mraz has a classic line that says “it takes a loss before you found it”.

The relief at finding something you almost gave up all hope on is a huge rush. It was 11.15 and we had missed our dinner but hey, we did get our walk, (just like the old days) multiple times up and down Orchard Road peering at people’s feet.

And that kinda makes today seem extra nice and beautiful.

by Daphne

out of the box

Minor technical difficulties

May 11, 2009

It seems that Mother, Inc is having some technical difficulties with the category buttons (on the right bar). Please be patient as we scramble to sort out the issue. I’ll be whipping the slave (who has since been demoted back to being a regular slave) to make sure he gets it done in the shortest possible time. While we’re at it, feel free to browse the rest of the site. All the posts are still up and running, so bear with us. The teething problems will be resolved in no time!

by Daphne

milestones & musings

Of new days and new beginnings

May 10, 2009

I’m loving the new domain here at motherinc.org. Don’t you think the site looks just fab? There’s lots of cool new stuff to brighten up your day like the baby blues strip and lovely new categories. Plus it’s all pink and girly and happy, which makes the whole concept of motherhood seem deceptively appealing.

The idea came about two weeks ago during a conversation with the husband.

Husband: What do you think of moving to a new domain and have your own website?

Me: That would be really cool. Except that you’re forgetting a very important fact. I’m a tech idiot and I generally can’t tell the difference between a Monet and a $5 painting you get from the flea market. My idea of a nice design includes as many colors as possible and several stick figures.

Silence.

But two weeks of sleepless nights and a bunch of gaudy designs later, I got my perfect Mother’s Day gift. Some girls like make-up and heels, but I’d rather have a website any day (and some bling, of course). What can I say, I’m a low-maintenance kinda girl, you know.

Seriously, when I saw the finished product, I was so impressed that I actually squealed with joy. Ok, so I don’t squeal, not unless a cockroach runs up my thigh in the shower (which really happened just recently and I stunned myself at the super speed at which I moved my pregnant ass out of the bathroom squealing like a 5-year-old girl), but you get what I mean.

So, here’s major props to the husband for the cool new site. For his contribution to Mother, Inc, he’s been promoted from being a regular slave to a sex slave, complete with special privileges.

by Daphne

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